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User blog:BobTheDoctor27/Falling in the Black: Chapter 15 Snippet
Sarnii tried to blank Torlo from her mind. She had been consumed by rage and fear in the reception area, and it could have cost her everything. She had to stay alive and get back to him, somehow. The Hive crackled with static electricity and the metallic air smelled of machine oil and hate. Iolan could barely walk and he was forced to lean on her for support, something the Matoran of Lightning had hoped would be a temporary condition of their time in the mines. They staggered drunkenly as the elevator that carried them down into the prison vaults slowed to a stop. The Kohrak Kal pushed them out onto a narrow walkway overlooking a vast cavern. Its rough-hewn walls rose up to a jagged cathedral arch of stalactites. It was incredibly hot. The entire elevator-ride down had been like descending into a cauldron. As they moved down the ramp, inclining through a layer of thick, searing mist, the ground suddenly came into view: irregular blocks of black granite separated by streams of bubbling, red-hot lava and volcanic slag. And all around, everywhere, there were workers: Matoran manacled together and set to work with pickaxes and shovels, breaking rocks and carrying them to heavy, primitive barrows. Each was fitted with a Krana, each one a different shade of some grotesque, sickly rainbow. Of course, Sarnii was no longer a stranger to Krana. Her normal Kanohi had been taken from her and replaced with a repulsive blue Krana Bo. It was warm and clammy, like a moist and grimy Rahi had clamped its claw on her face. Unspectacularly, the Matoran of Lightning was aware that her thoughts were being manipulated. She could feel a cruel presence in her head, one that was not her own. The Krana had a grip over her, but she could still feel her own thoughts. It was as if the Krana was in her subconscious, like a whisper directing her onto a particular course of action. No single word was being uttered in her mind. Instead, there was a string of phrases, none of which she could make sense of. She’d tried to fight against it many times. It was like she’d been sedated and the world around her was mellowed into an illusory, dream-like trance of blurred edges and undefined shapes that she had to focus on to see. Sarnii had wanted to scream out, to tell the world that she was being manipulated. But every time she tried to share her fears, her lips would seize up. She was completely unable to speak. No action was her own. Trooping through the clouds of steam and sidestepping around the glowing lava were Bohrok guards, their armor plating pockmarked and stained, their headpieces constantly twitching around, looking for signs of trouble or weakness from the slaves. The Kohrak Kal advanced and examined one of the nearest groups, its blue eyes shining out of the burning haze with deadly, implacable purpose. “''Work Unit Delta,” it grated. “''Your production rate has dropped below minimum tolerance. Your output is unsatisfactory!” Four Matoran looked up fearfully at the Bohrok Kal as it approached, flanked immediately by a pair of Lehvak. They were thin, emaciated, clearly exhausted – and all chained up together. One of the workers, a Bo-Matoran, tore off his Krana Yo defiantly and simply sat down heavily on a nearby rock, putting his face in his hands. “I can’t go on…” he wheezed. “It’s not our fault!” cried one of the other workers, a Ta-Matoran. He was more muscular, healthier. He pointed at the weakened Bo-Matoran sat on the rock, his chains rattling as he moved, the fear in his eyes showing through his Krana Ja. “He’s holding us all back. He can’t work any longer. He’s sick!” “''Inefficient work units will be replaced,” retorted the Bohrok Kal of Sonics remorselessly. The two Lehvak readied their weapons then opened fire without an order, coating all four members of the slave group in a powerful acid. The Matoran screamed and twisted in the blaze of corrosive sludge then sank into the lava. Within minutes they had disappeared, leaving nothing but a layer of bubbling slime on the surface of the molten rock and the stench of rotting meat in the air. “''Step forward,” ordered the Kohrak Kal. The two Matoran shuffled forward, Sarnii trying to keep Iolan on his feet. His legs were shaking as he tried to walk. A blue and silver-armored Bohrok Kal marched over to inspect the group, joining its fellow Bohrok Kal. “''You will now be Work Unit Delta,” announced the Kohrak Kal after a long moment of glaring. A swift rush hammered through the back of Sarnii’s mind and she fell the Krana twitched on her face, tightening its grip. Instantly she let go of Iolan and stood to attention, completed seduced by the Krana’s demands. “This Matoran is injured,” she reported, pitilessly. “His legs are damaged. He is of no use to the Bohrok.” “''Then he will be obliterated.” “No, wait!” cried Iolan, struggling against his own crimson Krana Su. “I can work.” “''Can you stand unaided?” demanded the Gahlok Kal. “Yeah.” Iolan wobbled, and let go of Sarnii’s arm. His metallic teeth were bared – he was clearly in great pain – but he managed to stand on his own two feet. The Matoran of Lightning could see that he simply wasn’t going to give the Bohrok the satisfaction of killing him. “''Satisfactory,” droned the Gahlok Kal. Iolan smiled through the pain. “Damn right.” Two more prisoners – a Ga-Matoran and a scrawny-looking Ce-Matoran – were marched over to where Iolan and Sarnii stood. Manacles and chains were quickly fixed to their wrists and ankles so that all four were bound together. “''Your task is to remove rock debris from the drill area, ” the Gahlok Kal informed them coldly. “''If you do not work hard enough, you will be obliterated. ''” Iolan looked at his three female companions. The Ga-Matoran wore the shabby remains of what had once been sharp blue and teal armor. She was probably from one of the nicer areas of Ga-Metru. The Ce-Matoran, however, was in pretty poor shape. Just like Iolan and Sarnii, she was another victim of Karzahni’s tinkering. What little remained of her golden armor was dull and cheap. One was physically stunted while the other had probably never done labor in her life. Two orange Krana pulsed and throbbed on their tired and grimy faces. Both kept their heads down. Iolan felt his stomach churn in anger. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he told the assembled Bohrok Kal. “They cannot work.” The Gahlok Kal stepped forward, eyeing him guardedly through false eyes. “''The Bohrok do not make exceptions. You are to work as a unit. If you fail you will be executed.” “I’m telling you, she can’t work –” He turned around, searching for Sarnii’s support. But the Vo-Matoran was staring listlessly at the rocky ground, the chains hanging heavily on her wrists. She looked utterly defeated. “''Do not argue with the Bohrok! You will obey!” Iolan’s Krana Su tightened its grip on his face and a dangerous cluster of brainwaves that weren’t his own rushed through his brain. He ''had to trust the Bohrok. They were, of course, driven by the Krana, one of the most intriguing and ancient species in the Matoran Universe. Who knew what otherworldly knowledge the Bohrok had acquired over the centuries, what greater good they were striding towards? It was best just to let them continue, intent on glorious purpose. The anger in the Ta-Matoran’s guts turned into a sense of obedience. He looked back at the Gahlok Kal expectant, but the orange eyes only blazed, daring him to argue back. Wanting him to rebel and be crushed. Iolan had been leaning on Sarnii for support, but his legs were now stinging from an agonizing pins and needles sensation, the likes of which he experienced most of the time. The few nerves that remained were burning, but he was determined to walk alone. That was what Torlo would have done. The four of them trooped slowly, awkwardly, across the cavern, winding their way through the other slaves and clouds of steam. They were taken to an area littered with rocks and rubble, where work units – groups of four Matoran chained together – were picking up rocks and passing them along the line to a large metal skip. “They don’t need us to do this,” frowned Iolan, his crimson Krana Su still palpitating strongly on his face. “Our glorious masters could do this work far faster and better with their Bohrok Va. Why use us? We are inferior.” “Because they can,” answered the Ga-Matoran darkly from behind her Krana Vu. “Because they like to. Subjugation of the lower races. It’s Bohrok policy.” A Nuhvok marched by, watching them with its cold eyes. The mysterious Ga-Matoran picked up a rock and thrust it into Iolan, as he tried to make sense of her strange disgust for the Bohrok. “Best get started,” she ordered. “Pass it along.” Iolan stared blankly at the rock in his hands, then passed it along to Sarnii, who passed it to the Ce-Matoran, who threw it into the skip. The “''fixed''” Matoran of Psionics moved quickly back, waiting for the next rock. Then chains that bound them rattled with every movement. Again, Iolan felt fury building inside him, the Krana’s temporary burst of obedience dissipating and his mind’s eye clearing the fog it had created, awakening to clearer vision. But he was surrounded by Bohrok – all of them looking for an excuse to kill him. There was nothing he could do. Except, his Krana Su told him, whatever the Bohrok want. '' ---- “Report!” commanded Bohrok X, gliding imperiously past the Nuhvok Kal without so much as turning to acknowledge it. The Elite Bohrok of Gravity edged closer to its leader as they moved towards the prison interior, flanked by a number of Kohrak. “''Mining to the Universe Core is proceeding as ordered,” reported the Nuhvok Kal. “''But the schedule has been delayed by the arrival and apprehension of Major Torlo. Resources have been diverted to ensure maximum security on level nine point zero.” Level nine point zero was the Bohrok Hive’s most secure area. That was where Torlo was being held. “How long until the barriers of the Universe Core are beached?” “''Research team estimates two days until the Core is exposed. The Bohrok Kal will enter and reprimand the strategic location immediately!” They reached the interior hallway. Bohrok X swept around and allowed his cold blue gaze to fall on the Nuhvok Kal for the first time. “''The delay is unacceptable,” it stated sinisterly. “Summon the Bohrok responsible for the operation.” “''I obey,” stated the Nuhvok. Led by Bohrok X, the group moved into the prison control center. The guard Bohrok took up positions behind and either side of their leader. Very soon, three Bohrok mine overseers arrived. Their normal mechanical casings were covered in grime and dust and lava splashes from the cave systems that surrounded the molten soil of the Southern Continent. Bohrok X’s eyestalk twitched menacingly. “''Explain the delay in the mining operation!” The leader of the mining project, the Tahnok Kal, stepped forwards, head twitching nervously. “''Disruption due to the arrival of Major Torlo has diverted resources from the mine workings. The Matoran slaves are not strong enough to absorb the increased workload.” “''This delay is unacceptable!” repeated Bohrok X implacably. “You have failed the Bohrok! Failure cannot be tolerated!” One of the Bohrok Commander’s mechanical arms shot upwards and grabbed the Tahnok Kal’s headpiece. Before the machine could so much as twitch, a devastating electrical pulse penetrated its faceplate, frying the Krana Kal alive. The harsh, dying shriek nearly drowned by the piercing screech of the electronic pulse. A moment later, all that was left of the Krana Kal was a blackened shell, the oily smell belching from the neck grille accompanied by a quiet sizzling noise. “Recycle the casing,” ordered Bohrok X, addressing the two regular Bohrok that had accompanied the Tahnok Kal. “Continue with the mining schedule. Force the Matoran to work harder and faster. ''” “''But, leader, they are all wearing Krana,” pointed out the Nuhvok Kal. “''They are already working at full capacity.” “''Evidently not,” retorted Bohrok X. “The Matoran continue to resist the Krana. Force them to work harder and faster. Select the weakest Matoran every hour and eliminate it in front of the other slaves. They will redouble their efforts. Continue!” “''We obey!” proclaimed the Nuhvok Kal as the two mining Bohrok turned and hurried away. ---- Iolan was still hurting. He was starting to shake, almost as if he had a fever. Spasms of burning pain ran through his legs every few seconds. Occasionally, he would stumble, or fall painfully on one knee, and Sarnii or Ryla – the Ga-Matoarn – would have to pull him quickly to his feet before the Bohrok noticed. His heartlight was blinked frantically every time a guard came near. The Bohrok glided amongst the workers, some armed with whips and electric Mahi prods in place of their usual shields. Any slave thought to be slacking was prodded. There would be a loud crackle and the Matoran would instantly move faster, blinking away hot tears of pain. “I can’t take much more of this,” muttered Iolan in one of the few instances of freedom that his Krana allowed him to think and speak freely. Ryla looked at him. “Don’t stop now, you fool. You and I are the strongest ones here.” Her eyes fell on Sarnii, then she corrected herself. “Well… the strongest ones willing to work that is.” “I don’t mean that,” wheezed the Ta-Matoran. “I can keep on shifting rocks from now until doomsday, if my legs hold out. I’m talking about watching the Bohrok torture innocent Matoran.” “Just keep your head down,” muttered Ryla. Her voice wavered as she spoke, but her green eyes were steady and determined. “If you do anything stupid, we all die.” Iolan lowered his gaze. “How long have you been here?” “Long enough to know that you’re badly injured,” Ryla replied. “I’m OK.” “You can barely stand. You’re shaking.” The Ta-Matoran gritted his teeth. “Yeah, well, I don’t like to talk about how that happened.” “It’s a permanent case of neurological shock,” explained the Ga-Matoran coolly. “I was a scientist back on Metru-Nui. I came down to the Southern Continent to help the Av-Matoran escape when the war began. A squadron of Bohrok captured me, my fellow medics and some Av-Matoran, then brought us here. But I’ve helped treat injuries like that. There were a lot of locals here on the Southern Continent with “''fixed''” limbs. “Is he going to die?” asked Sarnii, dazed. She stared at him questioningly, as if expecting him to fall over and die at any moment. Her Krana was messing with her mind, making her delirious, but still blunt as ever. She had totally succumbed to the effects of the parasite. However, it would appear that Iolan and Ryla were finding some way to combat it. The Gahlok Kal trudged closer to the Matoarn workers. “''Do not speak!” it declared. “''You are here to work. Talking is forbidden. Obey the Bohrok!” Once again, Iolan felt his Krana Su tighten. A flash of crimson. His chains rattled sharply as he spasmed. Ryla grabbed him and tried to pull him upright. It was difficult. The Ta-Matoran felt like his legs were on fire, and they were as weak as those of a Turaga. He clung onto the Ga-Matoran for support, teeth gritted. “''You cannot stand,” observed the Bohrok Kal. “''If you cannot stand, you cannot work.” “We’ve been through his already,” wheezed the Matoran of Fire. “I’m still standing. And I’ll still be standing when you’re a pile of rust on the floor.” The Gahlok Kal’s menacing orange eyes looked down on him once again. “''If you cannot work you will be executed.” “Yeah,” nodded the Krana-wearing Ta-Matoran, bending down and picking up a rock. For a moment he contemplated ramming it into the Bohrok Kal’s headpiece. It might not do much harm, but it would make him feel a bit better. Just for a second. But then he thought of the three female Matoran who were chained to him and passed the rock along. It was transferred down the line and dropped into the skip with a loud clang. Satisfied, the Gahlok Kal moved on. Had that decision been his own? Maybe the Krana on his face had changed his mind. It was certainly allowing him a lot more freedom than Sarnii’s was allowing her. Why was he allowed so much rebellion? Why did Ryla’s Krana seem to barely effect her when all the other slaves were totally succumbed to servitude? He guessed that didn’t matter. Iolan just gritted his metallic teeth and fought back the overwhelming pain. He bent down and picked up another rock. His legs were throbbing but his Krana seemed to throb louder and, in the end, he completely forgot about the pain. He became lost in the rhythm, caught up in the energetic tune that his vivacious Krana was drumming out. ---- Caliga formed a lighting arc between her hands, and Santis ignited the air around his right fist. In the next instance, they were just a violent blur, trying to kick, slash and punch an opponent who blended too well in the shadows and moved in absolute silence. Santis tried to shout some tactics at Caliga, only to find that his words carried no sound. '''He was starting to really hate this Sonics-guy.' The Krana-possessed Toa jumped out of the shadows and smashed Santis' head onto his shield. The Toa of Fire reeled back and growled, snatching at the ground for his missing weapon. After spending the majority of her life in a subaquatic cave, Caliga instantly knew exactly what to do next. Survival had become a force of habit for her, particularly when she shared her environment with Takea Sharks. And the key thing to remember about Takea was that they always strike... "From the back!" shouted the Toa of Lightning as she turned around and sent a surge of hundreds of volts at what she anticipated was their silent attacker. The grey being fell to his knees and then raised up his shield, emitting a high-pitched frequency. Lights flashed and klaxons blared. An intruder alarm. In response to that, one of every three tiles sunk. From the newly opened holes came out a horde of Bohrok Va, all of them brandishing weapons and itching to prove themselves. Caliga helped Santis out the hole in his own tile, and then started to fight off the incoming mass of possessed Matoran. The female Toa sent a wave of lightning that fused about a dozen Bohrok Va feet to the ground, immobilizing them. The upcoming crazed mass came to a halt abruptly. At first they didn't know what to do, but after a moment, a Lehvak Va decided to tear its legs off its feet. The rest followed suit and, one by one, the mass of robots started crawling, feetless, at an amazing speed. A pair of Bohrok Va lunged at the Toa of Fire, trying to take away his Danju. Santis tried to calm down, knowing what was about to happen. The Toa gave in to his pyromaniac instincts and set himself on fire. The machines lost their grip on him, their hands scorched. He was starting to imagine what would come next - armor melted, circuits burned, and metal blackened. No! His inner self shouted. He couldn't give in. He remembered the lesson he had taught Torlo, back on the surface. Santis calmed down, and the flames died down. When the dimensionally-displaced Toa turned his head, he saw that Caliga hadn't resisted. In that moment she was no Toa, but rather a maddened animal. The Toa of Lightning was electrocuting the Bohrok Va, one after another, making their flimsy bodies shake in a sickening dance, and cutting off their hands with her spear, as if wanting to confirm her body count. But the worst part of it - she was wide grinning. Determined to end the mechanical carnage, Santis started shooting balls of plasma at each of the Bohrok Va, finishing them off quickly. Caliga at first looked mad at Santis, he having ended her fun, but then something - maybe the stench of burnt metal, or the pile of robot bodies in front of her - made the Toa realize the horror she had just made. How easily they could have been Matoran. None of the two Toa dared to speak for a minute, until Santis decided to break the silence. "If you use their methods, you become them." Silence. "I hope you learnt the lesson, because this is the last time we are going to speak of this." Silence. Santis then walked to where the Toa of Sonics laid, weak, trying to get up but finding his legs failing him. With beams of heat-vision Santis destroyed the Krana Za, freeing the Toa's mind. The confused Toa looked at his surroundings in surprise, ignoring Santis and Caliga at first. He tried to scratch his Kanohi, finding that it was no longer there. Cursed under his breath, he then looked at the two Toa in front of him. "What is this place supposed to be? And what did you do with my Kanohi? Are you heading south too?" “Who in the blazes of Tren Krom are you?” grunted Santis. The Toa of Sonics, seeing that the two strangers were as clueless as him, decided to present himself, expecting -almost demanding- to receive their identifications in return. "I'm Sonitous, Toa of Sonics,” he winced, groggily, as if he’d just woken up after his bed was buried in an avalanche. “Sergeant of the 56th division of the Metru Nui army, heading south to aid in the Final Push.” Silence. Santis and Caliga exchanged confused glanced. “Soldier,” muttered Santis, fishing a discarded Noble Kanohi Huna off the floor and passing it to his new comrade, “you’re late for duty.” ---- Iolan stumbled again, crashing to his knees and almost pulling Ryla over with him. The Ga-Matoran staggered, grabbed him quickly, by the arm and hauled him back to his feet. “Another slip like that will cost us all our lives!” she hissed in his audio receptor. He shoot her hand away. “Be silent. You imped my work,” he snarled, his Krana Su speaking over him. The Matoran of Fire looked down at his legs, where the tough metal of his armor was becoming stained with blood. He couldn’t feel the pain, not properly. His legs were still riddled with nerves and it took all his concentration not to let them shake. Bending down and picking up rocks was becoming more and more problematic. “Please be quiet,” murmured Ryla. “It attracts attention otherwise.” “Not picking up rocks is gonna attract attention,” snapped Iolan bitterly. “Let’s change places, then,” the Matoran of Water suggested. She pulled on the chains with sore and bleeding fingers. She was in far worse condition than he was yet she never complained. The Ta-Matoran felt ashamed. “I’ll go at the head of the line,” explained Ryla quickly. You stand at the back, then you won’t have to bend down so much.” “I’m not invalid,” bristled Iolan. “The Bohrok might not agree.” Two overseer Bohrok swept into the cavern and approached the Gahlok Kal. The regular Bohrok couldn’t speak, but the Gahlok Kal’s Krana Kal connected them to the hive mind, allowing them to have a brief conversation before the Bohrok of Magnetism turned, eyes roving over the Matoran slaves. “''Attention!” it announced. “''The work rate is unacceptable! You will increase your efforts immediately!” The unblinking eyes of the Krana-possessed Matoran regarded the Gahlok Kal. “''From this point on we will identify the weakest work unit every hour,” the Bohrok Kal continued, addressing the entire cavern. Its harsh metallic voice echoed around the stalagmites. “''That work unit will be executed. No further warning will be given.” “They’re in a bad mood,” observed Iolan quietly. “I mean, worse than usual. Wonder what got into them.” “Fear,” stated Ryla. The Bohrok marched through the lines of slaves, heads twitching and rotating. “''The first unit to be executed will be chosen now.” The slaves milled around in quiet panic, all trying to look stronger, taller, fitter than their neighbors. But not by their doing. The ''Krana were worried. The Krana didn’t want to be killed with their hosts. They did not want to disappoint their superiors. Iolan gritted his metallic teeth once again as his legs began to shake. The sweat was pouring down his face, onto his Krana and chest. He knew he must look awful. Everyone around him seemed to be healthier and more upright. The Bohrok cornered a work unit on the edge of the cavern. From where they stood, Iolan could not see the prisoners. Were they old? Weak? Injured? It was impossible to tell. All they heard was a savage metal cry, followed by screams and what sounded like the crushing of armor. Then silence. “''Continue working!” ordered the Gahlok Kal. The remaining slaves set to their tasks with desperate energy, each work unit competing with the next as if it was some macabre contest. Iolan picked up rocks and passed them quickly down the chain. The Ce-Matoran tossed them into the skip, giving a tiny grunt of exertion every time. The whole process was repeated, again, again, faster, faster. Iolan was visibly shuddering now, his legs burning. Tears scorched his eyes. Whoever they were – the Matoran that the Gahlok Kal had just murdered – they couldn’t have been any weaker than him. He felt ill with fear and guilt. He long would it be before they came for him? ---- In the prison control center, Bohrok X was studying a bank of minters. Circular screens projected images of the mines, the core, the research laboratories, and the prison levels. One large monitor was showing the interior of Major Torlo’s cell on level nine point zero. The small, stunted Le-Matoran made the creature that lurked inside the Nuhvok Kal’s casing squirm. But Bohrok X seemed completely unfazed. It studied the Matoran with fierce intent, the blue light in its eye glowing stronger by the second. And then, bizarrely, the Le-Matoran looked up, straight at the camera lens. His wide, alien eyes staring out of the screen at the observers. “''He knows we are observing him” noted the Nuhvok Kal. “''It is of little consequence,” retorted the Command Bohrok. “Certain reactions are expected.” The Nuhvok Kal touched a control and a succession of images flicked across the screen – different Le-Matoran, their features flicking past at bewildering speed. “''This Matoran does not match any previous identifiable versions of Major Torlo in our databanks.''” “He continually changes his Kanohi in a futile effort to avoid our detection,” explained Bohrok X. Its eyestalk never left the prisoner on the screen. “He has interfered with the Brotherhood of Makuta’s plans on many occasions. But he will interfere no longer.” “''He is resourceful and cunning,''” warned the Nuhvok Kal. “He relies on fortuity. His arrogance will prove to be his downfall.” Bohrok X turned away. “Bring him to the Interrogation Chamber.” ---- Torlo was taken out of his cell in chains and marched down a series of featureless metal corridors. The Le-Matoran was getting anxious now. His skin was a horrible grey color, his lips compressed into a thin white line. His eyes were sunk deep into his skull, full of visions of what lay ahead. He was trying to think, trying to come up with a last-minute escape plan or brilliant idea, but his mind felt paralysed. The Le-Matoran and his Nuhvok escorts passed a number of doorways and laboratories, with wide windows allowing views of Bohrok at work. He saw one room with a feeble looking Matoran of Plasma strapped to a wall, his skin glowing brightly under the harsh electric light, an ugly metallic Krana Ja attached to his weary face. A Tahnok used its Fire Shields and opened fire on the frail Su-Matoran, who blackened and died like a leaf separated from a tree. A Tahnok Va was calculating exactly what firepower was required to kill the overworked slave. Sickened, he looked away. The cordon arrived at a junction, where Torlo was pushed roughly into a door. At this point, Torlo normally would have made a joke purely for his own entertainment, but the Zatth-wearer felt nothing but a profound, helpless sadness. Then the door slammed shut behind him as he was maneuvered into the darkened room. He was marched over to a metal wall and forced to stand upright against it by a pair of Lehvak Va. It felt uncomfortably like being made ready for a firing squad. His ankles and wrists were secured with tight steel bands so he was utterly immobilized. The Lehvak Va then withdrew and the door clanged shut behind them. The Matoran was left in complete darkness. It was cold. He had no idea how big the room was or what else was in there with him. He couldn’t see a thing. All he could hear was the heavy, metallic throb of machinery and behind that some kind of hard, electric vibration. The air tasted of static. Something cold and metal embraced his head. Torlo gasped as his skull was clamped into position and a hundred fine needles pricked his scalp. This is it, he thought, his heartlight blinking pathetically. After some time, a light appeared in the darkness – a blue disc. A single eye. He sensed rather than saw the familiar shape of the Bohrok Commander, its single blue eye marking him. Eventually, there was a harsh, grating voice. “Major Torlo.” The Zatth-wearer swallowed. His interrogator was in no hurry. He licked his lips and, as brightly as he could manage, replied, “That’s me.” His voice sounded more brittle than he would have liked. “I am Bohrok X.” “Can’t say I’m please to meet you.” “You are attached to a Bohrok Mind-Probe Machine. It has been calibrated to your specific frequency.'” “You won’t get anything out of me,” blurted the Matoran of Air. “That is not the intention,'” replied Bohrok X. “Yet.” Torlo couldn’t turn his head because of the device attached to him. It felt like a vice clamped around his skull. A could of extra turns of the screw would crack the bone. “So,” he said at last. “What do you want? If it’s my secret recipe for Stewed Bula Berries you can forget it. I’m taking that little beauty to my grave.” “I intend to measure your capacity for physical pain.'” “Oh. Why?” “Because I wish to.” There was a fierce, galvanistic crackle of power, and Torlo’s body arched like a bow, straining against its bonds. A howl of anguish echoed through the darkness, torn from his lips with sudden, shocking ease. How long it was before the control was released the Le-Matoran could not tell. Time passed in abstract seconds, minutes or even hours. It left him drained, limp, his armor damp with perspiration and his throat raw from screaming. “Expect no mercy,” Bohrok X informed him. “I’m no fool,” Torlo croaked, feeling very foolish indeed. Partly because his head felt so foggy with pain but also because he couldn’t for the life of him work out how it had all come to this: helpless, friendless and homeless, chained to a wall and being tortured by the leader of the Bohrok. “Makuta do not show weakness.” “Yes, I know.” “Mercy is weakness.” “Really? Why don’t you give it a try? Go on, I won’t tell anyone.” The Le-Matoran tensed, ready for another onslaught. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Bohrok leader’s ridiculous fingers hovering over the probe controls. Any second now and he would be plunged back into the abyss of pain. “On second thought,” he continued, “maybe I’m wasting my breath. And I’ve reconsidered the Stewed Bula Berries thing. You can have it if you want.” “Makuta show no mercy,” repeated Bohrok X mechanically. “Or common sense either, for that matter. Don’t you realize that when the Matoran Military Command hears news of my capture, of your mining operation down into the Universe Core, of your existence and manipulation of the Bohrok they will launch a counter-offensive?” The Matoran of Air suddenly stopped speaking and marshaled his thoughts. “Ah, now I see. That was the whole point, wasn’t it?” “The Matoran Military Command will respond as you have predicted. However, the Bohrok will be prepared and our enemies will be crushed.” “It’s a bit desperate, though. Or is that the real reason? Are you losing the war against the Matoran? Or, more accurately, have they already won? That explains the lack of Makuta organizing their Rahkshi troops around here. Is this one last shake of the dice?” The response was unequivocal: a savage twist of the probe control and a series of wracking, nerve-shattering waves of pain. Torlo’s brain felt like it was about to burst, but when the torment ended he was laughing. “That’s it, isn’t it?” he panted, his breath ragged and thin but his head locked in place. “You’re losing! This whole plan – your capture of the Matoran, your mining down into the Universe Core – it’s a last-ditch attempt to worm your way out of defeat!” “You underestimate our power,” grated Bohrok X. There was a metallic hiss and the hydraulic locks that had held the mind probe in place released. Torlo sagged for a second before the Lehvak Va returned and released him from his bonds, but then stood up stiffly, rubbing his wrists. He felt unsteady on is feet but tried not to show it, choosing to clear his throat instead. “Find anything useful?” “The mental probe confirms that you are indeed Major Torlo of the Matoran High Command. But you do not match any description currently held in our database.” “Oh, shame. Maybe your records aren’t as up to date as you think.” Bohrok X swiveled round to glare at him. “The most likely conclusion is that you have continually changed your Kanohi.” The Matoran of Air pursed his lips. “Well, now you mention it, yes… but never mind. Tell me all about your plans for the Universe Core instead. That’s much more interesting.” Bohrok X led Torlo out of the interrogation chamber into a long, low room with a wide viewing window stretched across the far wall. The room was in darkness, but there was a flickering orange glow coming from the window, as if it overlooked a furnace. The Zatth-wearer strolled across to the glass and found himself looking out across a vast, subterranean vault. Dark crags were separated by winding, straggling rivers of molten rock. Bohrok patrolled amid clouds of sulphurous smoke, overlooking thousands of Matoran slaves as they toiled in the searing conditions. “Your own private view of Karzahni?” asked the Le-Matoran as the self-proclaimed Bahrag King roved over to join him. “We are close to the barriers of the universe Core,” replied Bohrok X. Lit from below by the bubbling red light, his black and blue casing seemed to run with blood. “The Bohrok Hives are dotted across this verminous universe, filled with thousands, millions of soldiers ready to serve my command. '” “And you’ve waited all this time because?” Instantly, the answer came to the Matoran and a grin spread across the width of his Kanohi. “Oh, I like this,” he chuckled. “From what I’ve been told, you’d need the Bahrag Queens to awaken the Bohrok underneath Metru Nui and, seeing as they’re not kicking around this place, I’m guessing you usurped them.” “The Bahrag Queens are no more,” announced Bohrok X. “I am the new Commander of the Bohrok: the Bahrag King!” “But you can’t awaken the Bohrok yourself. You’re not recognized as either of the Bahrag. You’re not even recognized as a Bohrok. You ''can’t unleash them.” “''True,” conceded the Swarm Commander. “But I now have you at my disposal.” “Yes,” grumbled the Le-Matoran, trying his best to consider the strange Bohrok Leader’s threat as a compliment. “You were planning on drilling down into the Universe Core and exposing its treasures. But you don’t understand how the Universe Core works.” “Explain.” “The Universe Core is the very heart of the Matoran Universe, its power source. It’s the world that feeds the world. If you were truly a Bohrok, or any real threat, you’d understand that.” Torlo glanced out of the window once more, wondering how the glass was kept so clean then realizing he could probably see Iolan and Sarnii from here. “There’s a Nuclear Storm Drive situated in there. That energy is integral to the functioning of Mata Nui. It gets sent to Metru-Nui, where it gets distributed to the rest of the world. Last time I checked, word was we’d landed on some weird desert planet and the Toa were taking the fight to the Makuta. Mata Nui’s still alive and kicking, just blind as usual. The Universe Core will be active. If you break past the barriers, you’ll unleash a storm composed of sheer energy onto the Southern Continent. It’ll tear you, your base, and every Matoran, plant and rock for mio around into dust.” Bohrok X regarded him coldly, its single blue eye unmoving. “But nobody told you that. You’re just following orders. Going along with a plan of greater design? Trying to gain a strategic foothold in the most important part of the universe but completely oblivious to exactly what you’re dealing with? You’re no Bohrok.” “An interesting theory,” snarled the Bohrok Leader. “But a theory nevertheless. The Universe Core will be breached in a matter of hours.” “But now I’m here, you’ve been given another option.” The Le-Matoran’s mind was running a kio a minute trying to make sense of all the snippets of information he’d filed away in his head. “If you could, you’d unleash the Bohrok hidden underneath Metru-Nui, wipe out the island, and do with the Core Processor what you want. That was the Brotherhood’s plan all along: to get to the Core Processor. That’s why the Order of Mata Nui made such an effort to guard it above the Southern Continent. But you’re not a Bahrag, so you can’t. So, logically, the next best option is to capture someone who can. A member of the Matoran Military Command, like me. You think I know the codes? Of course not. But you’re counting on my ability to ''get them for you. A secondary plan, and one that you didn’t even form yourself. I just stumbled into your Bohrok Hive like an extra present on Naming Day.” “''If the Makuta are to achieve total universal domination and take our rightful place as the supreme beings then the Core Processor must be won. That the Matoran have failed to achieve the same goal is a sign of their inferiority.” “Or a sign that we don’t want to rule the universe.” “Then they will capitulate to the power of the Makuta,” announced Bohrok X. “And you know so much about Makuta, because?” The blue and black Swarm Commander stiffened then froze. There was a hideous metallic grinding noise, but then, with a loud hiss of escaping gas, hydraulic motors opened up the casing in its chest. A huge segment of the robot’s chest armor split away, shifting on concealed hinges and slides. A glowing, silver Krana Xa was now visible. Something pale and wet pulsed like a slug amongst the machinery, recoiling from the little light that penetrated the window. It was like a sea urchin emerging from its shell, and it was accompanied by a foul stench, the smell of pure ''wrongness, of something rotten sealed away for too long. The first thought that struck Torlo was that this Krana was very much alive. He was aware that all Krana were, but this one seemed to be pulsing. It was breathing, and its eyes had life. Upon closer inspection, the Le-Matoran realized that the Krana had an aura of darkness around it. “You’re a Makuta… possessing a Krana?” The Zatth-wearer sighed deeply. It was a hearty heave that shook him right down to the very core of his moral fiber. “Getting Matoran to do your dirty work again, eh? Always the same with you lot. Of course, I blame the Antidermis.” “''Explain'',” snapped the Krana in an extraordinarily deep voice. “I mean, does breaking into the Universe Core really compensate for not having any hands?” The Krana stared at him complacently while Torlo shuddered and returned his attention to the window. He heard the mechanical whine as the casing closed up once again and the creature that truly was Bohrok X was shielded from the world once again. And Torlo felt a new sensation of fear running through his circuits. ---- Iolan winced, straightened up, took a deep breath. He caught Ryla’s eyes and she nodded at Sarnii and the Ce-Matoran. They were clearly exhausted, but their Krana provided them with extra strength and the determination to drive themselves past the point of physical torment. But even the Krana had their limits. The pain that Iolan was feeling made it physically impossible to work, and the Krana Su on his face recognized this. It had to allow him the freedom to express pain, which made him wonder what Ryla’s excuse was. “There’s nothing more that I can do,” croaked the Ta-Matoran, knowing that he was only seconds away from collapse. The Ga-Matoran glanced at him then nodded, knowing that he truly meant his words. “We can’t go on much longer. None of us can. They’re going to kill us sooner or later and that will be it.” The two Matoran came to a standstill, causing their two followers to stop in their tracks, confused and distressed that their work was being impeded. “We couldn’t have done this without you and Sarnii,” muttered Ryla softly. Iolan gritted his teeth. “No, you helped me. I could hardly stand and you kept me going.” “It’s not over yet,” Ryla smiled sadly. “It is now,” grunted the Ta-Matoran. He was looking past them, to where the cloud of sulphur had dispersed to reveal the Kohrak Kal. “Work Unit Delta!” grated the Bohrok Kal. The hard, metallic words were full of cold menace and arrogance. “''Step forward!” ---- This is the point you were up to “So this is the guided tour, is it?” asked Torlo airily. Bohrok X had taken him down into the rocky bowels of the Southern Continent. Two of the Swarm Commander’s faithful Bohrok Kal had joined them. They hung back slightly, shields trained on the Le-Matoran at all times. Bohrok X glided along a metal walkway installed the length of the cavern. Clouds of evil-smelling steam drifted by. The Zatth-wearer strolled along, gazing all around him like a tourist on a holiday excursion to Ga-Metru. “It’s a bit stuffy down here,” he continued. “You need to get your air conditioning fixed.” Despite his causal demeanor, Torlo was very worried. For a Makuta, Bohrok X was one cool customer. He was impossible to taunt. And he seemed to be two steps ahead all of the time, out-guessing him at every turn. The Le-Matoran was waiting for the chance to somehow turn the tables, but it was never coming – or showing any sign of coming. “I suppose we’re pretty close to reaching the Universe Core here,” he asked chattily. He tried a few light bounces, his armored feet scraping clanging loudly on the metal walkway. “I can feel the fluctuations in the magnetic field. Nobody’s supposed to dig down this deep. It must be playing havoc with your circuits.” “''I am immune to the effects,” replied the leader of the Bohrok coldly. “As soon as you breach the Universe Core you’ll let out the Energy Storm,” sighed the Matoran of Air dramatically. “I guess we’ll see how well you fare when that circumstance befalls you.” They came to another part of the cavern and turned a corner. Torlo stopped in his tracks. After a moment he let out a low, appreciative whistle. In front of them was an enormous machine, five stories high and just as wide, filling the length of a massive tunnel. It curved away into the distance on either side. “Ooh,” murmured Torlo, gazing at the towering apparatus. Bohrok Va scuttled around the machinery, adjusting and monitoring the complex systems. “That looks serious.” “This is the Nuclear Storm Collider,” explained Bohrok X. “Once the Universe Core is breached we will bombard all energized particles against the hostile conditions of the landscape at supralight speeds. The resulting energy shower will be used to nullify the Energy Storms. We will then be able to achieve magnetic separation and deactivate the Matoran Universe’s power supply.” “Stopping the Energy Storms?” frowned Torlo. “The Core Processor would deactivate. Mata Nui would ''sleep and you’d be able to step foot in your precious World that feeds the world. Well… that’s one way of getting what you want.” “''It will work.” “Ah, well, yes – I suppose it might.” Torlo craned his neck, pretending that he had any idea what he was talking about. His job title had never pertained any information to the inner workings of the Universe Core’s role. He looked up at the highest parts with a critical eye. “It’s ''possible, I’ll give you that. But it’s also insanely dangerous.” “''Nothing important can be achieved without risk.” The Zatth-wearer frowned. “Was that a bit of Makuta philosophy I just heard?” “You concede that the plan is viable.” Torlo couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a query. But it was true, nonetheless. He nodded thoughtfully. If this strange machine could switch off the Energy Storms from above the Universe Core then there was no reason why Bohrok X’s plan couldn’t work. “A simultaneous attack on Metru-Nui will also be implemented into the plan.” A grim look stole across the Matoran of Air’s Kanohi and his eyes became deep, dark pools. “No,” he said bluntly. “Absolutely no.” “You are not in a position to refuse the Bohrok.” That was definitely a statement. And it was also a fact. But Torlo shook his head regardless. “You want me to give you a means of awakening the Bohrok beneath Metru-Nui? ''Never. It’s not even negotiable.” “''You will provide the Swarm Activation codes, Major.” “No.” Bohrok X moved closer. Its voice continued to grate out calm, unhurried statement as if they were facts. “You require persuasion.” “I do not.” “Coercion.” “Not possible.” “Let us investigate.” Bohrok X turned to one of the Panrak as it scuttled past. The Bohrok almost seemed to cringe as the blue and black machine addressed it peremptorily. “Alert the Nuhvok Kal.” ---- Torlo was taken back to the detention levels and then into a high-speed lift to the prison control room. He walked out into the busy chamber with Bohrok X in tow, as if they were old buddies. The feeling made the Matoran’ flesh crawl. The Nuhvok Kal turned hurriedly to face the Swarm Commander. “''Your orders have been carried out.” Torlo had an uneasy feeling. Bohrok X glided silently forward then turned. “''Summon the prisoners.” A door opened and four Matoran shuffled into the control room. “Sarnii! Iolan!” the Zatth-wearer exclaimed in delight. His face fell. They looked awful. “Are they alright?” Iolan was limping badly, and he seemed smaller than before, his shoulders hunched and his eyes haggard. His Kanohi Calix had been swapped for a dusty red Ruru. Sarnii also seemed bowed, and her green eyes looked cloudy from behind her miscolored noble Mahiki. Behind them, in chains, were a Ga-Matoran and a Ce-Matoran whom Torlo had never met before. They looked equally weak, though the Ga-Matoran had a shifty quality to her. Her sapphire Iden was marked and pitted, as was the Ce-Matoran’s awkward and dull Mask of Incomprehension. “Hi there,” muttered Iolan. His smile looked fake, though Torlo sensed that he was genuinely pleased to see him. Sarnii, however, was looking around the brightly-lit control room. When she saw the Le-Matoran standing with the Bohrok her expression turned sour. “What’s going on?” she snapped. “You colluding with this scum now?” “No,” shrugged the Zatth-wearer. Then he cleared his throat and said, more firmly, “No, I’m not.” “Major Torlo is refusing to cooperate with the Bohrok,” stating Bohrok X. “That position is about to be reversed.” “Nope,” grunted Torlo. “Incorrect!” The Swarm Commander’s headpiece rotated to address the Nuhvok Kal. “Bring forward the prisoners who accompanied Major Torlo.” The two Tahnok Va guards unfastened the chains that connected Ioland and Sarnii to the other two female Matoran. They were marched into the center of the room. Sarnii looked uncertainly at the Matoran of Air, as if wondering whether to be wary of him or the Tahnok Va. Bohrok X moved forward, fixing Torlo with his steady glare. “If you do not comply with Bohrok instructions then innocent lives will be lost. It is your decision.” “I won’t be bullied into helping you,” retorted the Le-Matoran. His words were steely. “There’s too much at stake.” The Swarm Commander looked at Iolan for a long moment then announced, “This prisoner is a combatants. He expects to die in the line of duty. What of the Vo-Matoran?” “Her life is of even less value to me than the traitor’s,” snarled Torlo. Sarnii stared at him, a hurt expression on her Kanohi. But then her head fell and she fixed the ground with a glare. Bohrok X turned away, addressing Torlo only. “These prisoners will not be killed.” There was a longer, colder pause. “Bring forth the other prisoners.” “No!” Torlo’s eyebrows shot up in horror. “No!” snapped Iolan, the same expression on his Kanohi Ruru. “Kill us instead!” The Ga-Matoran and the Ce-Matoran were herded forward, looking panicked and disturbed. Their faces were white and rigid. “Formation three,” ordered Bohrok X coldly. A trio of Bohrok guards lined up in front of the two females. There was no doubt that it was an execution squad. They turned their faces away from the nightmarish Bohrok. Nobody drew so much as a breath and the only sound that could be heard was the Ce-Matoran panting frantically. “''All right!” yelled Torlo. His voice echoed around the control room. “All right! All right. Stop! I’ll do it.” Bohrok X’s eyestalk swiveled to face him. “I’ll give you the codes.” The eye glowed, full of greed. It bathed the Le-Matoran’s face in its cold blue light. “But there are conditions.” “''Not valid.” “Wait. It’s important.” The Le-Matoran took a deep breath, his face solemn. “I’m giving you everything here. Everything you want. One word from me and an entire island goes up in smoke. The least you can do is hear me out.” “Continue.” Torlo swallowed the lump in his throat, then he sighed. He had to tell the truth. There were Krana that could read his mind. It was no use bluffing. “There’s an outpost, in the Mainland Swamp, about a day’s hike north from here. Six Matoran are needed to open it. A Matoran Nui. That’s the only way I can retrieve the codes for you. I need Sarnii and Iolan.” “That is only three,” grated Bohrok X. Torlo indicated towards the other two female prisoners. They were squatting on the ground, huddling together, looking up at him with haunted, disbelieving eyes. He hardly dared give them hope, but he had to try. “These two, plus the outpost’s guard will make six.” “These prisoners are not part of your party.” “I know. But they are needed. They can help. I can show them what to do –” “Negative.” The three syllables were ground out like pieces of broken rock. “You will have four Matoran only.” “It can’t be done!” the Matoran of Air argued. “A Matoran Nui needs six Matoran, all of different elements.” “It will be done! These prisoners are not members of your crew. They are not necessary. Therefore they will be executed.” Torlo leapt forward. “No! No, wait. They must be allowed to live. Even if they can’t come, they must be allowed to live.” The execution squad was already moving back in on the two females, taking up their positions again. The Matoran of Air ran over and placed himself between the Bohrok and the females. “If you really want to kill them you’ll have to go through me first!” “You can be disabled.” “Try it.” The Bohrok twitched impatiently as their shields pointed at the Le-Matoran. All eyes were on him, but he met the pitiless electronic stares unflinchingly. “Harm them in any way and I will not cooperate. You can disable me and torture me and kill me but then I will ''never show you the location of the outpost.” Bohrok X seemed to consider. “''Agreed. But that is the last of your conditions. There will be no further compromise.” “All right. You win.” Torlo’s shoulders were slumped in miserable defeat. “But I do need Iolan and Sarnii.” The blue and black armored leader of the Bohrok advanced on Torlo, its lethal fingers quivering hungrily. “Tell me the location of the outpost.” Through gritted teeth, Torlo answered. “About a kio north of the settlement knows as ''Bo-Koro.” The Swarm Commander twitched excitedly as it processed the information. “''We will proceed immediately,” declared the self-proclaimed Bahrag King. Torlo edged closer to Sarnii and Iolan. “A Matoran Nui?” frowned the Vo-Matoran. “Don’t mention it,” grunted the Le-Matoran. He turned to face the two female prisoners. “I’m sorry. I did my best…” “I know,” smiled the Ga-Matoran weakly. “Thank you. I owe you my life, Maor Torlo.” The Matoran of Air nodded. “Proceed to the Mobile Command Unit,” instructed Bohrok X, interrupting all conversation loudly. The Bohrok Kal and the Bohrok cordon filed out of the room individually, herding the Matoran captives with them. Torlo, Iolan and Sarnii marched out in somber formation. Bohrok X watched them go. They it turned to follow, its head swiveling to address the Tahnok Va that were still guarding the female prisoners. “Return them to the core mines.” Instantly the Bohrok Va turned to face their captives. The dark shape of the Bohrok Commander glided smoothly through the door as the Ce-Matoran broke down and wept. The Ga-Matoran, however, stood defiantly. She watched Torlo leave and dared to wonder what it would be like to one day walk in his footsteps. ---- Torlo’s feet clanking against the cold, cheap metal as he strode onwards. The journey to Bohrok X’s Mobile Command Unit seemed like it was going to be a long one, particularly with the unexpected route that they were taking. The walkway was narrow and the gridded platform was thin. The walls of the Bohrok Hive were too far away to see, but the railings on the walkway seemed to become more and more confining, yet Bohrok X’s large, sleek form still managed to advance with irritating ease. This particular boardwalk must have been designed for Bohrok Va. Access tunnels for small machines to reach the surface. Iolan was still limping badly, and one of the Bohrok watched his painful progress with full attention. It was the brown Bohrok Kal. The only one who had accompanied the cordon. Bohrok X seemed to always have at least one of his Elite foot soldiers in attendance. “What’re you looking at?” snapped the disgraced Ta-Matoran. He had stopped for a rest, flexing his swollen knees and grimacing. Nearby a number of heavy chains rattled and clanked as the others filed slowly past. The chains were attached to ancient pieces of machinery high above their heads. “Move,” ordered the Bohrok Kal. “When I’m ready,” grunted Iolan. “My legs are still sore after you made me labor in your slave mine.” He pulled himself up using one of the chains, his small biceps bulging as he allowed the chain to take his weight. He staggered off in a huff. But now Torlo had stopped and was staring at the brown Bohrok Kal, which had remained stationary. “Wait a second,” he muttered quietly. Such was the tone of his voice that everyone else on the walkway stopped to look back at him. Sarnii and Iolan had reached a landing where there were a number of narrow maintenance hatches. Torlo glanced down at his companions and smiled at them coldly. “What is it, Major?” asked the Ta-Matoran. “You’re holding us all up.” “I know this guy,” declared Torlo, pointing at the Bohrok Kal. “I recognize his Elite prints.” The Bohrok Kal said nothing. “You’re the one that killed my pal Connla,” stated Torlo. His tone was serious, quiet. “You shot her down in cold blood just to make a point.” Still the Bohrok Kal said nothing. “Connla was one of my best friends.” “Hey Torlo…” croaked Sarnii. She sounded worried. There was a grim light in the Le-Matoran’s eyes that only she could see. Torlo held up a hand for the Vo-Matoran to be quiet. His attention was still fully focused on the Pahrak Kal. “I made a promise,” he muttered. “I said I’d get you for that. And I meant it.” “Proceed,” the Pahrak Kal ordered, gesturing with a sharp twitch of its head for Torlo to continue walking down the metal stairs. The Zatth-wearer had been standing where Iolan had stopped. Now, with explosive force, he suddenly moved. He wrenched one of the chains off the wall, and advanced. Instinctively, the Pahrak Kal’s head snapped forward, intent on shattering his Kanohi. But the Le-Matoran was too agile and, while the Bohrok’s inner mechanisms were exposed, he looped the chain around the Pahrak Kal’s neck, locking the head in its protruding position, jamming the circuitry that was exposed from the armored housing. The Bohrok Kal exclaimed in a wordless exclamation that sounded like a Lava Hawk squawking. “Torlo!” yelled Iolan desperately. “Halt.” Bohrok X was already starting to turn, hovering in mid-air, floating next to the steps in the confined space. But there wasn’t much room to manoeuver. Torlo, his metallic teeth bared in a savage grin, kicked out at the machinery attached to the chains. It flipped over the railing and plunged heavily down into the darkness. The chain snapped taut and the Bohrok Kal was suddenly pulled downwards after it, tipping over, its two electronic lights strobing against the walls. With a terrible clatter, the machinery, the Bohrok Kal, and the chains tumbled down the metal grating, banging and crashing their way into the shadows. “There’s only one way to stop you from getting those codes,” chuckled the Matoran of Air as Bohrok X descended back into the walkway, his single blue eye glazing with cold fury. “With a stone heart I’ll sink you all,” he challenged, meeting the Swarm Commander’s glare. “And now, finally, I think I see some good in the name ''Torlo.” With those final, threatening words, the Matoran threw himself backwards, away from Bohrok X’s swipe. He sailed on backwards, connecting with the railing and toppling over the side, arms stretched out and a wicked grin on his face. Then he too plummeted into the darkness. Sarnii watched in sheer horror as Iolan’s features darkened and he get rip a primal bellow. The Ta-Matoran charged forwards, his Ruru twisted into a hateful snarl. But the Matoran of Fire’s journey came to an abrupt end. Bohrok X rotated to face him with incredible speed and locked one of his metallic hands around the Ta-Matoran’s head. A powerful surge of energy rocked the helpless victim of Karzahni, lighting him up for all to see, insides glowing, head back. He clenched his teeth and refused to scream, his eyes staying wide open in their sockets. Then, in his final act of life, Iolan did something heroic. He reached out, grabbed Bohrok X’s chassis in both arms and squeezed, like he was giving the metal monstrosity a hug. The paralyzing neutronic flare engulfed the Swarm Commander as well as the Ta-Matoran. A startling metallic roar came from within. The flow of electricity ceased abruptly. Bohrok X’s circuits crossed and shut down. He toppled backwards, down the walkway with a heavy clang as his elevation unit failed and it toppled down the stairs, knocking the other Bohrok guards down like skittles. One Lehvak using a Krana Vu managed to elevate into the air to avoid the pile-up of Bohrok but the rest were knocked over like dominoes. Bohrok X bounced and banged down the stairs until a total of five Bohrok brought him to a stop, Iolan’s dead body still clamped into one of his hands. Wasting no time, Sarnii shot off across the landing towards the maintenance ducts. She kicked open the hatch and pushed her way through it. Bohrok X was re-activating already and the Bohrok would be hot on her tail in a matter of seconds. The Matoran of Lightning tumbled into a narrow passage. It was pitch black and full of dust, which she wanted to scream about. But now was not the time. She could only grimace as she ran through a curtain of sticky cobwebs, dislodging small spider-like Rahi as big as her hands. Her shoulders banged and jarred along the rough walls, her legs scraping against pipes and electrical ducting. Eventually, she fell down a step into a small rectangular bay. Service hatches. Designed for Bohrok Va. Luckily Bohrok X hadn’t thought to bring any of the smaller robots to chase her through the mess. As she crawled onwards, Sarnii asked herself why Torlo had jumped. Why Iolan had sacrificed himself. All in the space of a few seconds. It seemed bizarre for a long time until she realized: Torlo must have seen where they were. The walkway was about to reach the platform with the hatches. He must have seen how close she and Iolan had been. Of course, the Ta-Matoran had experienced a rare impulse of nobility and chosen to heroically avenge his comrade. In spite of his betrayal, it appeared that their friendship really did have no bounds. Sarnii scuttled on, like a Fikou spider weaving its way through a new set of webs. ---- Bohrok X reactivated almost instantly. It did not spare a glanced at the Matoran filth that was still in his grip. Instead he just tossed the useless corpse over the railing. The loss of the Pahrak Kal was a grave disadvantage, but it was of little consequence. The death of Torlo presented a new dilemma. One that he had not anticipated. He felt no sorrow for his fallen Bohrok Kal. No Makuta was capable of lamenting a loss of wasting time ruing an error, the Swarm Commander even less so. But he was, however, furious. And anger was something that every Makuta knew. “''The Vo-Matoran has escaped!” he exclaimed. “Station Bohrok on the opposite side of the Access Tunnel.” It was at that moment that his mind seemed to buzz. The Kohrok Kal was sending him a report telepathically. “Leader,” it began. “There had been a breach of security on level three point five. The Toa of Sonics has escaped.” “Find him!” demanded the leader of the Bohrok. “Summon all the remaining Bohrok Kal.” Two Bohrok approached the maintenance hatches. One of them was a Nuhvok, and it immediately began digging its way through the metal, carving out a large section of the wall around the nearest hatch. The other was a Lehvak equipped with a Krana Ja. It extended its head down into the opening of the hatch, scanning the dark recess beyond. Neither of the workers were capable of speech so Bohrok X invaded the Lehvak’s mind. It was tracing the Vo-Matoran in the Station Superstructure. She was following the maintenance conduits. “Assemble all search units!” ordered Bohrok X. “Unite the Bohrok Kal! Seek! Locate! Obliterate!''”